


Puzzle Pieces

by airgloweffect



Category: True Blood (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crime Solving, Eric learns not to be emotionally constipated, F/M, Godric Lives (True Blood), M/M, Maybe a little OOC, Multi, Never written these characters before, Not a serious story however, Pam is the best, Past Domestic Violence, Police, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:53:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27076804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airgloweffect/pseuds/airgloweffect
Summary: Whitney Benson, a police detective for the Shreveport PD and resident of Bon Temps for the past two years. She finds herself pulled into a tangled web when she is accused of murdering a dear friend. Things begin to unravel as more secrets are revealed and can the two vampires help her hold it all together when her past comes back to haunt her?
Relationships: Eric Northman/Original Female Character(s), Godric/Eric Northman, Godric/Eric Northman/Original Female Character(s), Godric/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

BON TEMPS CALLING

* * *

I groaned and clutched my head- _what the hell happened?_

My memory of last night feels fuzzy, and I feel nauseous, maybe I drunk more than I meant too? That bottle of cheap white wine did taste a bit sketchy. I try to peel my eyelids open, but they feel like they weigh as much as Pam's pastel pink minivan.

I try again and shift my body on the couch; however, I didn't take into account that it is smooth leather and I slide right off on to the floor narrowly missing the corner of the coffee table.

I blink desperately trying to keep my eyes open. I look around, and it is still dark, so where is Mason? I stand up on wobbly legs and tentatively walk into the kitchen where everything is neatly washed up and sitting on the dish drainer. I frown. Weird, but ok. I feel uneasy- but I don't know if it is just because of the headache that feels like razor blades are slicing into the back of my skull or something else.

The glowing numbers on the stove flashed violently in green that it is just after 2 am. The apartment is quiet, so maybe he went out since I passed out on his couch. It's not the first time he has left me to snooze. He trusts me, and I believe him enough that he wouldn't drain me dry in my sleep.

I search around for my handbag, locate it in the exact spot that I always put it in, slip my shoes back on, grab my leather jacket off the coat rack by the door and lock up. I enter the hallway, and the hair on the back of my neck stands up. Now that I know that vampires exist, I am warier than ever going out at night- especially since I am a police officer- _a detective_ \- for the Shreveport PD.

The lights of the hallway momentarily blind me as I pull the door shut and hear the deadbolt engage. I bump into someone, but they keep walking. _God, some people are so rude!_ With the mood I'm in, I am almost inclined to give him a piece of my mind. I scowl as I hit the button to open the elevator a little too aggressively.

The doors open and there is a young couple practically devouring each other against the back wall. I roll my eyes and bite my tongue; they better not get too frisky; otherwise, I will caution them for public indecency. _Ugh, I sound like a jaded buzz kill, and I'm only 24 years old._

They don't stop, and neither do the lewd noises coming from them- too wrapped up in each other to notice. I sigh, wondering if I'll ever have a relationship like that again. I don't trust easily, and I came to Louisiana for a change. My sole confidant circle consists of Sookie, Adele, Mason and reluctantly Eric. I know whatever I tell him it will be held close to the chest. Getting him to talk is difficult enough as it is. I think my chances of seeing pigs fly are more likely. But once someone saves your life, you open up a little. Only Sookie and Adele know the reason I am here.

The doors open and the addictive smell of roasted coffee beans permeates the lift, and I take in a deep breath. _Ahh, my first love_. I step out now ignoring the humping couple and let my excited olfactory receptors take me towards the mouth-watering smell.

There's a coffee shop on the bottom level of the apartment building that is open 24 hours; the temptation of a healthy shot of caffeine is too strong to ignore. If I could only hook up an IV to do a direct injection, I would.

It is surprisingly busy for 2 am. Still, I suppose the selection of TruBloods, Royalty Blend- and coffee _(can't forget that)_ , attracts humans and vampires, who want a quiet establishment to mix without the ear-bleeding music vibrating every molecule in your body.

I join the queue and watch some of the vampire staff zip around bussing tables and making coffee at lightning speed. I wonder if they ever burn themselves doing that? My head starts to thump painfully, and I massage my temples, trying to relieve the discomfort even only for temporary relief. I don't think I have any Advil in my handbag.

"Next", I look up, and I am already second from the front- damn I must have been functioning on autopilot.

"Morning, what can I get for you?", the server was waaaay too perky for this time of the morning. I wanted to strangle her...at least until she handed me my drug of choice.

"A double shot mocha latte please", I smiled or attempted one- I probably looked like a lady either about to be committed or stumbling back into the gutter. Her resultant smile faltered... _so crazy bitch it is._

"Name, Miss?"

"Whitney", she waved me on like she couldn't get me to move from her register fast enough.

I stepped to the side and loitered with the other people grouping were our drinks will be dispensed. I looked around, feeling uncomfortable. The lights in the coffee shop were bright, like three feet from the Sun bright. Dimming them would evoke a different atmosphere for the shop- but right now I just wanted my coffee and to drive the whole 40 minutes to home on a caffeine high then slump into bed.

_"Mark"_

_"Reynold"_

_"Misty"_

"Whitney" Oh thank God. _The elixir of life_ \- is it sad that it's the reason I can get out of bed in the morning?

The street was relatively empty, and the cool breeze whipped about my face gently. I stopped next to one of the outside tables, so I could put my cup down and slip on my jacket. My handbag went across my body, and I dug my keys out ready. Walking into deserted parking lots always had me on alert as you could never be too careful being a single woman.

I made it to my Mini Cooper in British racing green _\- my parent's old car before they moved to Boca_ \- and quickly getting in and locking all the doors before turning the engine on.

Soon I was taking the exit onto the 71 for the long drive home, and seeing that sign that first greeted me when I crossed state lines from Colorado almost two years ago.

_"Welcome to Bon Temps- Catfish Capitol of the South"_

I vow to make it up to Mason tomorrow since I was a horrible house guest- one that came to drink mostly, and eat what little food they kept for me, and then pass out on the couch rudely. Mason is a vampire, one of the oldest in the Shreveport area. We met through work; I needed help since I am not supernatural. He volunteered, and that's also how I met Eric for the first time, stuffing my face full of pancake at a diner. I had had a craving for them all-day and needed a bit of a pick me up after a shit day at work.

Mmmm, maybe I'll go to Merlotte's in the morning and try to convince Lafayette to make them for me with that sweet Canadian maple syrup I convinced Sam to change too.

Anyway, Mason and I hit it off, platonically of course and we have dinner every week.

I pull up in the driveway of my double-wide, my car clock tells me it's nearly 3 am. Thank God tomorrow is Saturday. I look around, and the sensor light floods the front yard. I don't want any surprises. The Cork's front yard- Elias and Hattie, partially lights up as well, which reveals Hattie's extensive lawn ornaments collection which comprises mostly of Flamingos. Now and then she will sneak a few into my front patch- _because it makes it more homely and not sad and depressin'_. I kept one or two to keep her off my back, but I know she will not stop at that singular digit amount. The woman is a menace- a lovely, kind, elderly lady- but still a menace!

I walk to the front door, wishing I had purchased another coffee even though I know it would be a bad idea. I flick all the lights on and lock the front door, then kick off my boots. Sometimes I wish I could have an animal, but I am not home consistently enough, and that wouldn't be fair to them. I felt myself falling into a hole of self-pity and loneliness- _see this is why you shouldn't drink alcohol Whit!_ Did he break me down so much that I have no self-worth? Or esteem?

I felt like crying. I sucked in a shaky breath clawing desperately at the notion that I could stop this upswell of heartache. Things will get better they had too. I escaped. _I escaped_ , and I repeated that mantra as I fell into a restless sleep.


	2. chapter 2

**_A/N: A trigger warning for this chapter of domestic abuse. You are warned._ **

Goodbye, gone

_I stumbled back nearly slipping on the polished wood floors, my back hitting the hallway wall._

_The look on Vincent's face was pure victory- was this the moment that he finally goes too far? Kills me? Or permanently injures me?_

_Tears pricked my eyes. I should have listened to my mother, but I was so in love and so naïve._

_I saw the fist coming toward my face, but I couldn't move, I was already disoriented from the first open-palmed slap across my face. The force of his fist connecting- I saw stars. My head was slammed back into the wall, damn it hurt so much._

_Is my jaw broken?_

_He forcefully grabbed my forearms in a bruising grip. Twisting the skin as he pulls me closer._

_"This is your fault, you stupid bitch. All. Your. Fault!." Somethings will never change; it was always my fault._

_"But, I didn't dooo annythinnng 'rong", yep I think my jaw is broken, I can barely open my mouth. He shook me, and my head kept bumping into the wall._

_"You didn't do anything wrong?" he shook me violently again "Look at me when I am talking to you", I looked up into his eyes and the hate emanating from him caused a cold fear to coil around my spine. I couldn't prevent the tears from rolling down my cheeks- I was petrified this time._

_He grabbed my face, making me whimper because he dug his blunt nails into my cheek and squeezed where I think my mandible was fractured. His breath smelt strongly of alcohol, it stung my nostrils, and I wanted to gag._

_"You don't touch other men. Don't look at them. Don't talk to them. You are mine, to do as I please. If I want to beat and fuck you, I will. No whoring around like you were tonight. I thought you would have learnt your lesson by now, but clearly not. But I will now"_

_He pulled on the skirt of my dress, causing it to half rip, exposing the lower half of my body for him to view._

_"Is this what you wanted them to see? Did you want to fuck any of them? All those men watching you flounce around. Wiggling that arse and swaying those hips like a two-dollar whore" what the hell is he talking about? He's completely lost it. I stood in the corner all night, except to get one drink and a shrimp canape._

_"I din't" I was sobbing now. I felt so humiliated._

_"Liar" Vincent grabbed my hair, viciously dragging me into the bedroom and forcing me onto the bed._

_"Yoou're huurtin' me Vin" he just narrowed his eyes and backhanded me one more time. I felt my lip split, and I had bitten the inside of my cheek, causing blood to flood my mouth, a little of it dribbled down my chin. He watched the droplet roll down, mesmerised by it- that he could make me bleed._

_"You don't get to speak." he yanked me by the leg, so he was in between my legs at the edge of the bed. He tore my panties off and then began touching me. I felt disgusted. In this moment I hated this man, who was supposed to love me._

_"Did. You. Want. To. Fuck?" He leant down and whispered into my ear. I shivered at his tone, revulsion pulsed through me. "I could always arrange for one of them to fuck you, and I could watch. Whore you out like the bitch you are. Would you like that, Whit? Such a dirty little whore" he penetrated me with his fingers, and I was unable to stop my body from trembling. I hoped he would kill me so I wouldn't have to endure this anymore._

I woke from the dream coated in sweat gasping for air. I haven't had a dream like that in six months, ever since Sookie finally confronted me. It felt good speaking to someone about it, unburdening myself. I still felt the guilt, shame and self-loathing- but proud that I got away. It's been two years, and I have made myself a home, and I'm happy. Mostly.

My throat was dry, and my tongue felt like sandpaper, I discreetly sniffed myself. _Yep, definitely need a shower._ Not just to wake me up but to wash away all those horrible memories. I hope never to see Vincent ever again, but if I do, I promise to kick his arse this time. I will never be made to feel weak again.

I pad out into my kitchen and set my coffee machine to start heating up the water while I shower. I would sometimes have coffee at Merlotte's, but that sludge makes me want to fling myself off the nearest bridge to get away from that imposter they call coffee.

I flicked the lights on in the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. I didn't look that bad if you consider discolouration under my eyes and my hair that looks like a birds nest that had just been through a _tornado not bad_ then I guess I'm good. I twisted the tap on and stripped off my clothes, having a shower at the end of the day or this case morning, is one of my favourite activities. Having that scolding hot water running down my body and relaxing my muscles is the best feeling. _I dare anyone to deny it._

My head still felt like it was full of cotton wool- cotton wool that was bouncing around my head, thumping every surface available. Feeling refreshed, I dressed simply in skinny black jeans, a plain grey t-shirt and a long cardigan that went to my knees. I tied my hair up in a messy bun and applied some light makeup to hide the washed-out look of my skin and dark circles under my eyes. Today was my relaxing day, but I had a gut feeling that today was going to go arse overhead.

I decided perhaps a walk would clear my head. I filled my travel mug with my freshly brewed coffee- _Sam would hate it_ \- but I'll just tell him where he can stick his cheap swamp water.

It was a crisp morning still a little chilly but warming up. I just can't believe I am actually awake, a quick look at my wristwatch...10...23. Okay around about six hours, that's not too bad, but I feel as though I could sleep another twenty.

I walked past the Cork's and shook my head at the number of lawn ornaments that covered the grass. Cork Road was off Hummingbird Lane, across from the old Compton Place and a few minutes from Sookie's. I squinted and noticed a vehicle parked out the front of Compton's. I knew old Jesse Compton passed not that long ago, as far as I knew he didn't have any living relatives left. Suspicious. I snapped a discreet picture of the licence plate and made a mental note to run the plate when I was a work.

I could see Adele sweeping her front porch, and I decided to drop in to say hello since I couldn't remember if Sookie was working this morning or in the afternoon.

"Good Morning Adele", I called out and waved as I approached getting her attention. She paused and looked up a wide, friendly smile stretched her lips.

"What did I say, deary, call me Gran your part of the family", the older lady lightly scolded pulling me in for a hug. "Now, what as got you up this fine mornin'?" but before I could answer, her southern manners kicked in full gear. "Oh my lord where are my manners...did you want to come in? Can I refresh your coffee?" I smiled. Adele knew all too well my coffee addiction. She even made an effort to buy my favourite coffee, so it would always be on hand when I was visiting.

_Since when did I ever turn down coffee?_

"Sure Gran, is Sookie home?" I inquired about my friend.

"She's in there somewhere, fighting like cats and dogs with Tara", she held the door open like a proper hostess. No matter who was coming and going, Adele always upheld her southern upbringing.

I settled at the dining table, leaving my shoes and handbag by the door. I felt rude walking into her house with my shoes on. I could hear muffled voices from upstairs; one voice was distinctive- owning to one Tara Mae Thornton- _aka the pain in everyone's arse._ She certainly had fire and spirit, and it tended to rub most people the wrong way. I wasn't sure if I liked Tara or not- I was yet to be swayed either way.

"That's some serious bullshit, Sookie and you're telling me to lie down and take it?" Tara came thundering down the stairs and into the kitchen, she paused when she saw me sitting there at the end of kitchen table.

"Takin' in more strays? Any more and we are gonna have to open a kennel", my eyebrows rose at her roundabout way of calling me a bitch.

"Tara, you will stop that kinda talk when we have guests in the house", she mumbled under breath and flopped ungracefully down on a chair. Adele brought my freshly washed mug over and set it down in front of me, while the coffee machine I bought Sookie for Christmas brewed my delicious libation. I was intent on getting someone else as hooked as I was. No one could deny that it tasted better than the freeze-dried instant granules that you got from Walmart.

Sookie came a few moments later, dressed like she was going to spend the morning lying in the sun. Personally I thought it was a bit cold to do that...but Sookie never said no to tanning.

"Mornin'" she smiled brightly and turned and narrowed her eyes at Tara. Tara just rolled her eyes. I knew of Sookie's telepathy, and most of the time, I could block her out, except when I was exhausted. She hadn't met anyone who could do that. I was grateful I didn't really want someone digging in my memories- not that she would invade my privacy like that. It would destroy my trust in her.

"For heaven's sake, Tara, you need to stick to a job. If it doesn't work out you could always ask Sam?" Tara snorted.

"You can't expect me to shut my mouth when the dragon woman is being a racist bitch. I ain't puttin' up with that shit, and you can't expect me too! If she wants to discuss slave labour I'll give it to her, show her what that damn well looks like", she kept on about the place she worked that had inhumane working standards. I have no idea who in their right mind would let Tara work within a five-mile radius of people. I could only see her working for Sam ending one way. In tears and a lot of broken bottles.

"Anyway, I better go to this place of racism and get some boring shit done. See y'all bitches later", being around Tara could be stressful at times she was a handful.

"Whit, what were your plans for the rest of the day?", I hummed before answering, taking another sip of coffee.

"Well, I had planned on convincing Lafayette on making me some pancakes and stealing some of Sam's maple syrup..."

"So just a bit of theft?"

"A bit of _harmles_ s theft, victimless really" Sookie snorts with laughter as she sits down with a plate full of toast.

"Your welcome to hang around. I was going to sunbathe for an hour before heading off to do the afternoon shift" I shrugged as if to say _I've got nothing better to do_ and I didn't.

Just over an hour later, I was stuffing my face full of pancake not unlike the time I met Eric. I pointed my fork at the pancakes while I spoke, with my mouth full to Lafayette who came through with the life-altering pillow-soft little flat cakes of goodness.

"Oh god these are good better than sex", his eyes lit up and lips curved up into a sly smile.

"You bet your skinny white arse theys are good. But for reals, you need to get out more" I rolled my eyes. I get out plenty just usually with criminals.

"Really? Here this is the selection" The men in the town were either complete pigs, married or mama's boys. None of them were on my list of who I would settle down with. He looked around at the less than stellar pickings.

"You got me there hooker" he tipped his imaginary hat, "I's better get back to work, laters", he flounced off, making the stretch of floor from my booth to the kitchen his personal catwalk, while flipping off the homophobic group of men in the corner. It was hard not to laugh.

I continued to look around while enjoying the remainder of my pancakes. I thought about how I came here to get away _-escape,_ but Lafayette was struggling to get out of this backwater town.

I was learning to find myself again, regaining my identity after Vincent stripped it completely. I still had a little way to go, but I was getting there.

It was just after two when I thought that I had lingered long enough putting off doing some grocery shopping that I so desperately needed. My cupboards looked they had been raided in a zombie apocalypse, except no one wanted the single jar of pickled anchovies. I don't even know how that ended up in my cupboard because I don't even eat anchovies.

Just as I made my way out the front and before I set a foot into the dusty parking lot, Andy Bellefleur and Bud Dearborn were getting out of the marked Sheriffs vehicle. Bud was a fair man, and he did a decent job, but that's it. He wasn't one to go that extra step- although to be honest there isn't a lot of crime in Bon Temps because everyone knows everyone.

"Sheriff, Andy" I greeted them as I went to walk past, to begin my trek back home.

"Can we talk to you for a moment Miss Benson?", I could hear the nervousness is Bud's voice, and that put my hackles up, I knew I was not going to like whatever they were about to say. I turned and crossed my arms defensively, jutting my chin out stubbornly I was not going to make this easy for them.

"Well, you see..." he started patting down all his pockets searching for something. "Damn I thought it was here. An-andy do you have it?", he looked to Andy questioningly.

The other man shrugged and then held his hands up like this _thing_ they were looking for had touched the plague and wanted nothing to do with it.

"Bud, just spit it out" I snapped losing what little patience I had for the duo and this situation.

"We're going to need you to come with us" I frowned that was not what I was expecting. They looked at each other and Andy, looked down and away.

"Why?" I was beginning to think this wasn't a social call, but something serious.

"Miss Benson, we don't want to do this here...out the front of Merlotte's", Just as I was about the ask again, _what the hell is going on?_ Sookie came bursting out of the entryway resulting in the screen door banging violently against the wood panelling. She ran down the stairs with her hand raised and index finger poised, ready to punctuate the point she was about to make.

"Now you listen to me, both of you should be ashamed of yourselves. Whitney did no such thing, and here you are wasting time!" to their credit they did look ashamed; they didn't want to do this but had no choice. However, I still had no idea what _this_ is.

"Can someone before I die of old age tell me what the hell is going on?" I asked with my hands on my hips. I felt like a mother scolding her children.

Andy cleared his throat, and I was surprised that it was him that was about to say it, but Sookie beat him to the punch.

"They want to arrest you for... _murder_ " she quietened down and scrunched her nose up when she said _murder_ like she couldn't stand to have the word roll off her tongue.

" _What? Who?"_ was this a joke? My eyes darted between them because this could not be real. It was ridiculous!

"No, can you just come with us down to the station and we will explain further" Andy droned out monotonously. He seemed to be over this whole farce as much as I was.

"Not until I know who I supposedly murdered" I was not going to budge until I did. I was determined to get to the bottom of this because it had to be a mistake.

Bud yelled out abruptly "Ah-Ha! I knew I had it" he smiled, but no one else did. Sookie stepped back up beside me taking my hand in hers, a silent supporter in this burgeoning nightmare.

He roughly unfolded the scrunched paper and tried to press out some of the crinkles on his thigh.

"Miss Whitney Benson is to be detained...yadda yadda...vampire citizen Mason Stone", I blinked and it felt like the metaphorical rug had been pulled out from underneath me.


	3. Why Do I deserve This?

Why Do I Deserve This?

I felt like all the air had been sucked from my lungs. I could barely process the thought that Mason was dead. I clutched onto Sookie, like a lifeline to prevent me from being pulled under by the strong tides of grief.

Tears burned in my eyes akin to acid on the skin. The stinging helped cut through the fog that my thoughts seemed to be getting lost in. I shook my head as if something so simple would clear my mind.

Sookie was yelling at Bud and Andy again, but I wasn't focusing on what she was saying. I was still stuck on the devastating fact that Mason was dead, like dead _dead_.

"Fine, I'll go" I don't know how I spoke, but the words came out. The detective side of my brain knew that if I wanted answers, then I would have to go with them. I wanted answers, and I wanted to find the real killer. I was being framed for the murder of my friend, and I will not rest until I solved the case. They were all wasting time focusing on me when the killer was out there doing god knows what.

"But Whit you can't!" Sookie pleaded with me, grabbing the sleeves of my cardigan tightly.

"No Sook I need to. The only way to get this resolved as quickly as possible is to get it over with." She looked distressed but resigned to the fact that I was going to do this.

"What can I do?", I appreciated her determination, but right now there was nothing she could do.

"Just your continuing support. Don't worry I'll have this sorted out soon enough", I sounded strong, but I didn't feel it.

I let Bud and Andy lead me away, and I got in the back of the cruiser by myself glaring at Andy when he went to try to open the door for me. It was petty, but I wasn't feeling charitable.

The ride was silent, and I was lost in thought about how this could happen. I was glad they had enough sense not to say anything, because I really wasn't in the mood for talking. I wondered how my colleagues were taking this, and I wondered if they really did believe that I could murder Mason. I wasn't afraid to say Mason was my friend or Eric when asked about it, but I didn't broadcast it either. I didn't feel like I had too, nor should I because it was my private business. I shouldn't have to justify who I am friends with too narrow-minded thinkers.

I was more open-minded than most of the people I worked with. I was surprised when they _'came out of the coffin'_ and a little excited, but I viewed them as people at the end of the day because they _were_ in both interpretations or tenses of the word. Many of the general public have gotten caught up in the hate rhetoric and would rather live in fear than just going about their lives, probably never to come into contact with vampires. If they were really that desperate, they could move to Montana. Or Greenland. But the warmongering was increasing with the establishment of that _church_ \- _religious institution was stretching the definition_. Run by Steve Newlin; I knew his parents had died and while I sympathise, trying to incite a war with beings that could kill us all in two seconds flat is rather stupid. That was the main reason I was the unofficial liaison in the department, because I didn't idolise them, didn't pander or throw myself at their feet in reverence. I acted normal. I respected them, and I expected them to treat me the same way in return. And they did once they got past their own suspicions and realised I didn't have some nefarious ulterior motive.

I hope this doesn't blow everything I had worked for over the past two years.

Once inside they booked everything I had on me which wasn't much just my purse. I refused to do a proper mugshot and just stuck my tongue out instead. Andy just sighed and put me in the last cell- which was empty. I was just glad he didn't stick me in the drunk tank. I sat there, mentally preparing myself for the long night ahead.

I tried concentrating on making a list in my head of what I need to do in the future, but it was hard with the drunk that was already in there at this time of the afternoon singing a bad and off-key rendition of Aerosmith's _Walk this Way._

_"Shut up I'm trying to think!"_ he paused and rolled off the bench seat he was lying down on, landing face-first on the concrete floor. I waited for a reaction other than a grunt of pain, but he just raised his head and started singing _I will survive_ instead. It was going to be a long night if he kept that up.

_Will this insanity ever end?_

After hours of painful singing, the drunk was snoring heavily. I prayed for the powers of telekinesis so that I could strangle him from here and put an end to one part of my misery.

Later Kendra came in with an intoxicated Jane Bodehouse. I snorted _when wasn't that woman drunk?_

"Whitney" she nodded when she caught my gaze. I decided this was my chance to ask for my phone call, now that the sun had gone down. I'm not sure why I felt to urge to call who I was going to call, but I knew that he would help. Well, I hoped he would. Despite Eric saying we are not friends because _he doesn't need friends,_ he was always there when it counted.

"Kenda, when you have a moment, can I use my phone call to organise somethings please?", I spoke in the most polite professional voice I could muster at that moment.

She gave me a look in return that I couldn't decipher, then answered: "Sure, give me fifteen minutes to prepare the room". She thrust Jane into the drunk tank with the other man still snoring rather loudly. "Jane, don't you even think about touching that man!" The drunk woman pouted and sat in the opposite side of the cell watching the man with a leering expression. I shuddered.

Kendra gave her one last stern look, spun on her heel and walked back down the corridor. After a few seconds, I could hear her yell out to her partner Kevin.

True to her word fifteen minutes later, she came in stopping outside my cell. I sat there watching her wondering if she was going to cuff me as protocol dictated. Not that I would do something. But I could see her weighing up the options.

"I'm not gonna have to use these am I?" She brandished a pair of cuffs, the metal rings swinging on her index finger like she was trying hypnosis.

"Kendra, do I look like a moron?" I huffed a little offended that she would think I would risk it all at a half-arsed escape.

"Just checking, you never know these days." The jingling of the keys as she unlocked the cell door was music to my ears, even if the freedom was temporary at this stage. "We have set up interrogation room two for you to use." I walked out and stepped to the side, waiting, unsure if she wanted me to walk in front of her.

He flapped her hands in a _get moving_ gesture. I sighed and stomped ahead- I knew where I was going, I just didn't want to be rude.

She opened the door to the sparsely decorated room with a simple office desk and chair with a phone smack bang in the middle.

"I'll leave you to it" she closed the door, and I heard the lock click in place. I slumped down on the chair and held my head in my hands, allowing myself a few moments of self-pity, letting my walls crumble then building them back up again. I hesitated before reaching for the receiver, _was I making the right choice?_ Despite leaving Vince two years ago and how strong I may look like to the people around me, I still had trouble making decisions for myself. It was foreign. I had been with Vince since I was fourteen and even then he made a lot of my choices for me before it became natural just to defer to him. I lost my identity, and I am slowly trying to rebuild that. I didn't want to end up making the same mistakes.

I pick up the phone because even though my pride doesn't want to give up control, I know I need help. I dial his number that I have memorised in case of emergencies and what for him to pick up.

"How do you have this number?" there is a deadly edge to the voice that if he could reach through to phone and throttle the person calling he would.

"Eric" I manage to get out, not my usual confident self. Even to my ears, I sounded lost and shaky. My heart is pumping so fast I'm positive Eric can hear it through the old Bakelite phone in mustard yellow.

"Shortstack?" his voice is neutral, and I'm glad he isn't making a joke. But I get a warm feeling at hearing my nickname "Your heart is beating frantically. Are you in fear?" _Damn him and his freaky hearing._

"I need help" I breathe out the puff of air I was holding in waiting for his answer.

"Name it." I could the music in the background beginning to fade; he must have been walking back to his office.

"I've been arrested", he barks out a small laugh at the incredulity of it. If I weren't so stressed about the situation, I would have laughed with him.

"You goody two shoes arrested? What did they cuff you for? J-walking? Not paying a parking fine?" he's laughing more now, and it draws the seething anger that I pushed aside for grief flooding to the surface.

I snap.

"This isn't funny Eric I was arrested for murder...." at _murder_ he immediately ceases chuckling, " they think I killed Mason which of course I didn't. I have no idea what is going on" I finish, and I can hear something crash off his desk, I presume.

"Are they insane? Their incompetence will never cease to amaze me. And as Sheriff, no one has informed me of a crime against a vampire under my fealty" I wipe the tears away stinging my cheeks and then snort.

"Eric they are probably too scared of you to tell you, that's why it was always left to me to do it."

He sighs, but it is more of a growl of frustration. I imagine him sitting at his desk squeezing the Viking stress squeezy figurine that I got him for Christmas last year. I even sent one to his maker Godric but had it made to resemble the comic book character Asterix the Gaul. I remember Eric saying that he hadn't spoken to Godric in some time and he seemed forlorn. Even though I don't know Godric, I sent him the little gag gift and asked him to please mend his relationship with Eric. He hadn't, but I am not giving up hope yet- _even if I have to drive to Dallas myself and drag the 2000-year-old vampire by the scruff of his neck to Eric._ He didn't know I did it.

"I will organise everything on my end- I'll contact my lawyer, don't worry short stack I won't let you go to jail."

"Thanks, Eric", I started tearing up again ashamed of my weakness- this wasn't like me, but then also it wasn't every day you were arrested for the murder of a close friend.

"Goodbye Whitney", I whispered goodbye as well and gently hung up the phone even though I felt like ripping it from the wall socket in anger.

_Why me?_


End file.
